About: A Sober Spouse For Me   Sponge Permalink

An Entity of Type : owl:Thing, within Data Space : 134.155.108.49:8890 associated with source dataset(s)

Lore: None Arrangement: Usually sung, but often with clapping/stamping of feet, and the use of a liltrum or lute is not unheard of. Range: Soprano or Alto Attribution: George Pope Morris Notes: Generally a tavern song sung by women. Not the sort of thing you'd play for nobility. Lyrics: Some love to stroll Where the wassail-bowl And the wine-cups circle free; None of all that band E'er shall win my hand: No, a sober spouse for me. Where the wine-cups circle free: None of all that band E'er shall win my hand: No, a sober spouse for me. No! no! no! no! No! no! no! no! No! no! no!

AttributesValues
rdfs:label
  • A Sober Spouse For Me
rdfs:comment
  • Lore: None Arrangement: Usually sung, but often with clapping/stamping of feet, and the use of a liltrum or lute is not unheard of. Range: Soprano or Alto Attribution: George Pope Morris Notes: Generally a tavern song sung by women. Not the sort of thing you'd play for nobility. Lyrics: Some love to stroll Where the wassail-bowl And the wine-cups circle free; None of all that band E'er shall win my hand: No, a sober spouse for me. Where the wine-cups circle free: None of all that band E'er shall win my hand: No, a sober spouse for me. No! no! no! no! No! no! no! no! No! no! no!
dcterms:subject
abstract
  • Lore: None Arrangement: Usually sung, but often with clapping/stamping of feet, and the use of a liltrum or lute is not unheard of. Range: Soprano or Alto Attribution: George Pope Morris Notes: Generally a tavern song sung by women. Not the sort of thing you'd play for nobility. Lyrics: Some love to stroll Where the wassail-bowl And the wine-cups circle free; None of all that band E'er shall win my hand: No, a sober spouse for me. Where the wine-cups circle free: None of all that band E'er shall win my hand: No, a sober spouse for me. Like cheerful streams When the morning beams With him my life should flow. Not down the crags The drunkard drags His wife for shame and woe. Not down the crags The drunkard drags His wife for shame and woe. No! no! no! no! No! no! no! no! No! no! no! Some love to stroll Where the wassail-bowl And the wine-cups circle free; None of all that band E'er shall win my hand: No! a sober spouse for me. No! a sober spouse for me. The drunkard mark, At midnight dark, Oh what a sight good bark! From fumes of beer And wine appear Grim friends who cross his track; His children's name He dooms to shame His wife to want and woe; She is betrayed For wine is made Her rival and her foe. No! no! no! no! No! no! no! no! No! no! no! Still some will stroll, Where the wassail-bowl And the wine-cups circle free; None of all that band E'er shall win my hand: No! a sober spouse for me. No! a sober spouse for me.
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